Love is Strange
by Eve Angel of Fate
Summary: Marianne & Dawn, desperate to get away from their interfering family decide to find a place of their own. Boggart Cottage is a perfect; there's only one problem: It's haunted by the previous owner, Greg Boggart, a sea captain who doesn't want them there. Unbeknownst to them all a curse, hundreds of years old, binds them together & a mysterious woman is determined to keep them apart
1. Chapter 1

_Summary:_

 _Haunted house AU based on The Ghost and Mrs. Muir._

 _Marianne and Dawn, still reeling from their father's death and desperate to get away from their interfering family decide to find a place of their own. Boggart Cottage is a perfect ten; Fully furnished, ocean view, no annoying neighbors. There's only one problem: It's haunted by the previous owner, Greg Boggart, a rough sea captain who wanted his home to be a place for retired sailors, NOT two women. Marianne and Bog clash, both refusing to back down, but little do either know more is going on beneath the surface than it seems. A curse, hundreds of years old, binds them together and a mysterious woman is determined to keep them apart._

Marianne gazed out the window as the car slowly wound its way along the seaside road. It was a blustery autumn day, the grey clouds casting a steely color to the ocean and the wind whipping the waves into a white tipped fury. Even the brightly colored leaves on the trees seemed darken in the face such a day.

If Dawn had been with her, she would have accused Marianne of brooding. She wasn't brooding, but honestly, it was the perfect day for it and she shouldn't have to apologize for her mood.

It was hard enough already to stay positive with the events of the past year. The death of their father had been months ago and the cancer had been slow, but no amount of time could have prepared them for the loss of their only remaining parent. Dawn dealt with it like she dealt with everything: putting on a happy face. Fake it until you make it, as Marianne put it. Dawn hated the phrase, but that was what she was doing no matter what glittery description she wanted to slap on it.

Marianne dealt with it, as her sister put it, by 'going hardcore goth'. Which was frankly ridiculous. A little dark eye shadow and a propensity for black did not a goth make. To Dawn, anything that wasn't pink and sparkly was 'goth'. Still, Marianne couldn't deny that their father's death had taken its toll on them both. Marianne had fallen into a deep depression followed more recently by a numb apathy. It was as if she had used up her emotional quota for the year and now she wasn't able to feel anything beyond the most basic things. At first it was a relief, but she had started to worry that this was going to be status quo from now on. She'd be in a panic about it this very minute if she could muster the emotional energy. As it was, boredom was now her greatest enemy.

Dawn was concerned, of course. She even tried to drag Marianne to a grief counselor. But it wasn't as if the counselor would be able to talk Marianne back into feeling again. Despite her fears, Marianne suspected it would just take time. After all, she had recovered from her ex-finance Gerard's betrayal. She could recover from this.

Even with Dawn's incessant attempts to improve Marianne's mood, she still missed her sister. Dawn would join her in a couple days after she had tied up some loose ends back home. No, home was the wrong word. They had lost their home to the expensive cancer treatments their father needed. The place where they abided for a short time would be more accurate. Their father had no extended family to speak of, but their mother's side of their family had offered to take them in until they could access the small inheritance their father had buried away before he started the treatments. Before the cancer ate away at his life savings until all he had left was his family.

So of course they took their aunt up on her offer. Where else would they go? Dawn didn't have a job and Marianne was juggling college with a part-time job. Marianne didn't make enough money to keep them in the apartment their father had rented and have enough left to eat. Staying with their aunt was the best option.

What they hadn't expected was the "well-meaning" advice and the "good intentions".

 _Dawn dear, I know you wanted to take a year off after graduating high school but you really need to look into college. There are some very nice financial aid programs –_

 _Why, I don't see any reason why you would have to move out at all! You can stay with us while you go to college! Of course, you'll have to pay rent eventually…_

 _Marianne, you mean you don't intend on finishing your degree? But you're so close to graduation it would be foolish not to!_

And then, of course, the final straw:

 _It's been four months since he died. I know it's sad, but you need to move on with your life. You can't just waste away here._

Even Dawn was beginning to get annoyed with their overbearing aunt. They knew they couldn't wait for the inheritance, which would mature in two years. So Dawn got a part time job at a local pizzeria and Marianne started taking on extra shifts at work. She had the time since her depression had flunked her out of her last class and she had dropped out of college.

The minute they had saved a reasonable chunk of money they got on their computers and looked at houses for rent as far away from sunny southern California as they could get while still staying on the west coast; not wanting to leave the ocean they both loved so much. When Marianne found a rent-to-own listing for a four bedroom house overlooking the sea in Oregon she immediately fell in love. The price was unreal for what the place offered, leading Marianne to believe that perhaps there was some sort of caveat, but she couldn't help it. She had to see for herself.

She told herself that she was taking the trip to Oregon to look at multiple possibilities but she knew that wasn't the truth. The minute she set eyes on Boggart Cottage she knew it was the one. Even if it was filled with cockroaches and spiders, she she'd still want it.

As they drove up to the cottage, that opinion was cemented further. Boggart Cottage stood almost proudly against the grey sky, and though it was obviously neglected it was beautiful and full of character. Although the tree in front was quite possibly the ugliest thing she had ever seen, and it was right in front of the bay window. She'd have to take care of that. The car pulled to a stop and Marianne got out, Mr. Thangly, the landlord, hesitantly taking step behind her.

"Can I make changes to the property? Like – like that tree there? It ruins the view"

The wind blew very hard for a moment and Mr. Thangly looked about nervously.

"Uh – if you like – you – " He stuttered helplessly before unlocking the door and glancing at her pleadingly, "I suppose you want to see the interior of the house?"

"Of course!" What an odd question. Like she would drive for hours just to see the outside of it and be on her merry way.

"Are you sure I couldn't show you a rental – ah – more appropriate for two young ladies? I manage some very nice condo's north of here, and – "

"If I didn't want to see this place then I wouldn't be wasting your time by having you bring me here, would I?" Marianne couldn't understand why the short balding man had been so reluctant to rent her the place if, according to the listing, it had remained empty for so long. He ought to be jumping at the chance.

Thangly reluctantly pushed the door open and Marianne prepared herself for what must be a terrible interior if Thangly's reluctance was any indication.

Her footsteps echoed in the empty hall as she walked in, taking in all the details. Everything was dusty with neglect, but Marianne could tell the woodwork was gorgeous even beneath the layer of grime. The floors and stairway banister were a deep chestnut set against a dark green wallpaper; the color of the ocean when it was rainy but bright. Marianne looked up to see the house still had its original lighting, as the listing had said, and many of them were not electric. While the house was wired for electricity many of the appliances were fueled by gas. Which was a bit odd, but it didn't bother Marianne at all. Dawn would certainly find the dimmer lights dreary but Marianne thought it added to the charm of the place.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind them and she jumped, Mr. Thangly giving a dismayed yelp. Marianne fumbled in the sudden darkness for her phone, lighting her way to the closest light switch and turning the dial so that the bulb flared to life. Her heart still fluttering in her chest and feeling slightly giddy she turned to Mr. Thangly to see his pale face dead serious, the dim light of the bulb highlighting the dark circles under his eyes.

"Are you ok?"

"F-fine. Fine. Shall we continue the tour?"

He led her into the living room, and as promised it was fully furnished. The furniture matched the home in period, not overly modern but also not old to the point of dinginess. It suited quite nicely, and Marianne appreciated the simple but comfortable nature of it.

"It's not very updated, I'm afraid – "

"No, I like it." Marianne said, walking up to the coffee table, "I thought you mentioned the cottage has been vacant?" she said, noticing for the first time a cup of coffee that had been knocked over, and a newspaper on the floor. From the looks of it the coffee had been sitting there like that for a while. Hopefully it hadn't completely ruined the finish of the table.

"The last people to inquire about renting left in a bit of a hurry. They were only here for a night so I didn't really count it as occupied…" Thangly was still looking nervously about.

And he didn't stop in after to check the furniture for damage? What kind of landlord was he? Clearly he didn't value the furnishings from the state of the table. Marianne shook her head. Perhaps he was a bit eccentric, but if a crazy landlord was the price she had to pay to get the cottage at such a steal she was willing to stand a little madness.

Marianne wandered back towards the stairway, "I want to see the bedrooms."

"The bedrooms? O-okay…"

They walked up the stairs and as they reached the top step Marianne's gaze met with a pair of blue eyes and she startled for a moment before realizing it was a painting set up in the hall. The man was older, perhaps in his mid thirties, his dark hair peppered with grey. His skin was weathered in the way that only days at sea could accomplish but his skin still glowed with youthful vitality, nothing like what she'd seen of the leathered skin of ageing people addicted to tanning. His eyes were a stark contrast against his tanned skin, quite striking, actually. They seemed to bore into her, as if they were looking to the deepest part of her and judging. He seemed like a very prickly sort of man, and Marianne found that she rather liked him for it.

"Who is that?"

"The late owner of the house. Captain Greg Boggart."

"Oh? How did he die?"

"Supposed suicide." Mr. Thangly said shortly, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. He kept looking around as if expecting someone to be listening in.

"Hmm…I wonder why?" Marianne said absentmindedly as she snapped a quick photo of the painting to show Dawn later.

"To save someone the trouble of assassinating him, no doubt."

A sudden deep laughter filled the hallway and Marianne glanced sharply at Thangly, whose mouth was firmly shut, then around the hall. There was no one else with them. Fear uncoiled inside of her and she was overtaken by the urge to laugh at the unexpected intensity of the feeling breaking through her apathetic haze. She wasn't sure whether to succumb to fits of laughter or run, but when Thangly grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the stairs she followed without protest.

The laughter followed them, growing louder and more menacing with each step. A sharp pop sounded to her left and she threw her hands up just in him to shield her eyes from the glass of the broken bulb. Thangly whimpered as he pulled her faster, each light they passed exploding until they were plunged into darkness again. Thangly fumbled at the door but it wouldn't budge as the laughter swelled around them.

 **GO AWAY**

The voice was deep and gravelly, the words shaking the house from the sheer volume of it. Marianne clapped her hands over her ears as it echoed off the walls.

"Please just open I promise I won't bring anyone else here just please let me out I'm too young to die…" Thangly said in a rush as he shook the door handle uselessly.

Suddenly the door flew open of its own accord and they stumbled out, the door slamming shut behind them firmly.

Marianne's fear had melted away in the light of day and the desire to laugh won out. Mariann bent over, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath in between gasps of giddy laughter.  
One look at Thangly, panting and looking very ill, confirmed that he had been just as surprised as Marianne. So it wasn't something he set up. The lack of camera crews revealing themselves told her this wasn't some sort of reality show she hadn't heard of. Excitement bubbled up inside of her as she considered what that meant. A guilty pleasure of she and Dawn was to load up on as much buttery popcorn as possible and watch those cheesy ghost hunt "reality" shows together. Of course they both knew the shows were just a set up, but THAT. That was undeniable. Marianne grinned. This really WAS the perfect place.

"It's haunted!" Marianne said, delighted, "That makes it all the more interesting."

"Interesting?" Thangly squeaked, "This house has driven me to drink. Four people I've tried to rent this house to and four people have fled. Boggart's last remaining relative lives in Scotland and she keeps insisting that I keep on my duties as executor of the estate instead of selling the property and bulldozing this place. Rent to own is the only way I can be free of this place!"

"Scotland, hmm?"

"Yes! She keeps insisting, 'oh when the right one shows up, don't you worry, they'll stay'. As if that is any comfort. You can see now why I didn't want to show you the place. I was looking for perhaps a young man with a strong constitution - "

"Hah! Most men I know would have been running for the hills by now. Anyway, you'll be happy to know I've decided I want the place. Can I start moving in my things tonight?"

Marianne was glad she had planned this trip so that it could be one way in the event things turned out well. She had a car full of belongings back at her hotel and Dawn would bring the rest in a couple days.

Thangly looked at her, flabbergasted, "You can't be serious…?"

"Yep! This is the place for me." Marianne put her hands on her hips as she surveyed the house with satisfaction.

Thankgly was looking at her as if she had a screw loose, but as he was surely eager to be rid of the place he didn't argue with her, "Sure, move in tonight if you want." He said with a sigh, "But I won't be held responsible if anything strange happens – "

"You know, all you're accomplishing here is making me want to move in more." Marianne said with a grin. She had always wanted an adventure. To explore. Well, this was the perfect place to start.

"Alright. I'll take you back to my office so you can fill out the paperwork…"

A few hours later and Marianne was hauling boxes inside the house. It was suspiciously quiet now, as if the Cottage didn't believe she actually had the nerve to move in after the display earlier. Looking back on it, she could have imagined the laughter, and perhaps the lighting in the house was just a bit faulty. Dawn was usually the one with the overactive imagination but Marianne was sometimes prone to a bit of fancy there and again. Either way, it didn't matter. She loved this house and she was going to stay.

"You hear that, house? I'm here to stay, so no funny business. Don't even try it."

Thunder rumbled in the distance and Marianne savored the little thrill it gave her. If only Dawn could be here tonight. A dark and stormy night in a haunted house. It couldn't be more perfect if it tried.  
Marianne placed the last box down in the living room and rummaged through it until she found the new light bulbs Thangly had been kind enough to provide. Of course, Marianne had insisted. Although she suspected she could have asked for a set of gold jewelry and he would have obliged at that point after the afternoon's events.

She carefully pulled each broken bulb from its socket and put a new one in until she reached the top of the stairs. She glared at the portrait of the Captain.

"You see what you make me do? Having to clean up glass shards and replace the bulbs all before even getting settled in my new home. So rude." She stuck her tongue out at the painting for good measure.

Lightening flashed, and for just a moment she could have sworn the painting changed. Marianne shook her head.

"Don't you sass me!" She warned, trying her best to ignore the tension building inside of her.

Marianne made her way back down the stairs and sat down at the couch to inspect the table. The cleaner she had left to soak had loosened up the coffee but as she wiped it away she could see it was far too late. The sticky residue lifted and revealed a stain and water damage.

"That idiot landlord…" Marianne muttered.

At least now that the table was clean she could make some dinner. There was nothing better than a bowl of Ramen and a good book on a stormy night. Ok, well maybe some homemade chicken noodle soup would have been better but Dawn was the one who could cook, not Marianne. She didn't intend on burning the place down the first night she got it.

Marianne walked through the halls flicking on all the lights as she made her way to the kitchen. Despite the fact that she enjoyed the haunted house thing she had to admit that now she was alone it did make her a bit edgy. These things were much better with Dawn around.

Marianne remembered that she still hadn't texted Dawn, who was probably wondering what was going on. She fished her phone out of her pocket and sure enough there were six new texts and a missed call from Dawn. Marianne had the habit of putting her phone on silent to avoid having to check it, a trait which drove Dawn bonkers.

 **Dawn: How'd it go?**  
 **Dawn: Is it nice?**  
 **Dawn: Your phone better not be on silent again.**  
 **Dawn: Answer your frikkin' phone!**  
 **Dawn: UGH! Why do you even have a phone if you never CHEEK IT!**  
 **Dawn: … *check. Seriously though, you've got me worried. Do we have a bates motel type situation going on here?**

Marianne went through the phone files and sent the picture to Dawn.

 **Marianne: Check it out! The previous owner of the house. Apparently he died here and you won't believe what happened to me earlier!**

Immediately the phone lit up with an incoming call.

"Hello? Who is this?" Marianne taunted.

"AGH! How could you leave me in suspense so long? You suck! Is the place haunted? I wish I was there right now! TELL ME EVERYTHING."

"Ok, ok, slow down." Marianne said, juggling the phone while filling a pot with water, "Boggart Cottage is wonderful. I signed the papers so we're all set."

"I figured THAT out, now spill the interesting bits."

Marianne proceeded to tell Dawn about everything that had happened that day, savoring her sisters hilarious and exaggerated responses.

"No way! You're pulling my chain."

"Ok, well maybe my imagination got away with me but it seemed very real." Marianne said, rummaging around in the boxes to find the one that held the food.

"So what's the mysterious previous owners name?"

"Captain Greg Boggart."

"Boggart? What a weird name. Then again he was an odd looking dude…"

"What do you mean? I thought he was kind of handsome." Marianne said thoughtfully, "He looked very intense with those steely blue eyes"

There was a crash behind Marianne and she jumped around. A box that had been stacked on top of another box had fallen and scattered its contents all over the floor. Marianne sighed. Of course that was how she was going to find the food box. She slowly started picking up the items off the floor.

"What? Seriously? You've got some strange tastes in men. Hey, what was that noise?"

"Nothing. Just old Greg knocking things over. I think he's pretty miffed at me for sticking around."

Dawn laughed, "Oh come on, you can't really be serious about this haunting stuff."

"Guess you'll just have to come here and find out for yourself!"

Marianne finally found the ramen amongst the mess and placed it on the table. Now to figure out where the matches were so she could light the stovetop. Maybe she could convince the landlord to at least update the stove, but until then she was stuck with the old fashioned way of doing it.

"You sound better…more like yourself. It's good to hear." Dawn said seriously, and Marianne was surprised to realize it was true. She was joking around with Dawn like she had before…everything. It felt good.

"Yeah, this place makes me feel more like…me. It's hard to explain. I really like it here."

There was muffled cursing on Dawn's end, "…oh I better go. Auntie is on a rampage about us moving and she's headed my way. I'm gonna hide in the closet."

"Good luck!" Marianne said cheerfully, and turned back to the counter as she ended the call.

Wait a minute. Where was the ramen? She had just put it there, but it was gone.

Marianne looked around and was about to give up when she spotted it on the stairway. She walked out of the kitchen and picked it up suspiciously. She hadn't been in the entryway after she found the ramen. There was no way she could have misplaced it there.

"You're going to have to do better than that Greggy boy!" She said, hoping talking aloud would help to ease her nerves.

Why did Dawn have to hang up? The storm was picking up in strength and the wind was howling through the trees now, the branches scratching ominously across the roof. She skipped back to the kitchen humming cheerily, hoping to dispel her fears with a little bit of goofiness.

"La tee daa! You don't scare me you old grump!" She said in a sing-song voice.

There was an abrupt flash of light and the power went out in time with the following boom of thunder. Marianne cursed, pulling out her cellphone and turning it to flashlight mode. Of course one of the rooms that featured electric lights exclusively would be the kitchen. Marianne propped open the door so some light from the hallway filtered into the kitchen, lighting it dimly and casting strange shadows on the walls.

"You know what? No. Nope! I'm gonna enjoy a nice bowl of soup and nothing will stop me from doing that!" She said a lot more confidently than she felt.

Gas stoves worked without electricity. She just had to find a match to light the stove. After some rummaging she finally found a small box. She lit the match and brought it down to the stove but just as she got close enough it blew out, the sudden flare of light gone and leaving her in the shadows again.

"Oh come on!" She tried again but the same thing happened. Marianne stood up and put her hands on her hips.

"If you think you can annoy me out of this house then you have another thing coming mister!" She said, frustration overcoming her anxiety, "Now you had better let me light this so I can have dinner like a civilized human being!"

This time when she bent to light the stove it lit, and she straightened with satisfaction, "See, now that wasn't so hard, was – " She stopped short when she saw something in the corner, illuminated by the flickering flames of the stove.

Marianne whipped around to face it, but it was gone.

"Wha – "

"I don't think this constitutes a civilized dinner." A voice said behind her and Marianne jumped with a yelp. She backed herself towards the counter, and, keeping her wits about her, grabbed a knife from the holder near the stove, brandishing it in front of her defensively.

There was a man in her house. A very solid, non-transparent, man. For a moment she thought it was a burglar but as she took in his face she recognized it as that from the painting.

"…Greg?" She said in disbleif.

"I didn't realize we were on such familiar terms. Then again you seem like a very brash woman just coming in here and claiming my cottage as your own."

"Well then, what should I call you?" Marianne said, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I prefer Bog. Not that it matters, because you will be _leaving_."

"I will not! I'm paying to rent this house fair and square and you can't make me leave!"

"Do I need to continue my demonstrations to convince you?" He took one slow step towards her and Marianne raised the knife.

"Pfft! Didn't even phase me. That stuff was so cliché. Maniacal laughter? Slamming doors? _Geeeettt ouuuuuuttttt_ …." Marianne mocked, wiggling the fingers of her free hand menacingly, "What did you get that from? Haunting for dummies?"

Bog cocked his head to the side, seeming bewildered at her response for a moment before recovering with a sneer.

"And what do you think you're going to do with that knife? Stab me to a second death?"

"You look pretty solid to me."

"I'm not."

"Are too."

Bog rolled his eyes and proceeded to walk through the wall, and then back again, "There, satisfied?"

Marianne paled and lowered the knife, "Uh – yeah."

"Great. Now pack your things and leave."

Marianne shook off her surprise. Ok, so she hadn't imagined it. This was for real. That, or she was having a mental breakdown. Either way, she had to fight it. Real or metaphorical she wouldn't let any obstacle keep her from Boggart Cottage.

"No." She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"No?" Bog threw up his hands impatiently, "Blast it all! What must I do, woman? Set the cottage ablaze?"

"You won't do that. You're obviously trying to scare people off because you like this place, and don't want to share it with others."

"Ooooh, brilliant deduction Sherlock! Thrill me more with your amazing powers of reasoning." Bog said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

He didn't fool her. He was nervous because she was on the right track.

"Why are you even here?"

"What kind of question is that?" Bog said with a sigh, leaning on the wall and tapping his foot impatiently.

"Well, don't ghosts haunt for a reason?"

"How would I know? Do I look like some sort of blasted expert?"

"Well you ARE a ghost.."

"Well if you're so smart, then tell me what's the meaning of life? You should know since you're alive, right?"

Marianne frowned, "Ok, ok. Point taken. Still, you have to want something."

"So what if I do?"

"Maybe we could make a deal." she suggested.

"A deal? What madness are you spouting now?" Bog rolled his eyes, "I don't have the patience for – "

"Yes, a deal. You let me live here, and I'll help you get what you want."

"What I want is for this to be a home for retired sailors. So you can see how you being here would put a damper on that goal!"

"You could have written a will before offing yourself. Then you wouldn't be in this position in the first place!" Marianne countered.

"I didn't 'off' myself! It was an accident and the fools who found me just assumed the worst." Bog muttered.

"You still could have written a will."

"Well I didn't expect to be dying so soon, obviously." He growled.

"Well…" Marianne said slowly, "What if you let me live here, and when I leave I'll do everything in my power to make sure your wishes for the cottage are fulfilled."

"And when, pray tell, do you plan on leaving tough girl?"

"I don't know. I might want to live here the rest of my life. I love it here."

Bog grumbled loudly, "The rest of your life?"

"How else do you expect to get your way? You can scare off people till you're blue in the face but that won't turn the house into a place for retired sailors. Mr. Thangly wanted it bulldozed to the ground."

Bog snorted, "That simpering fool? He wouldn't dare."

"Maybe not. But if he can't rent it out to anyone it's bound to happen someday."

Bog seemed to consider for a moment, then he sighed, "You may have a point."

"Right!" Marianne brightened, "So we have a deal?"

"On a trial basis!" Bog said warningly.

Marianne put up her hands, "Okay, okay."

"And there will be conditions. I'll have to think about it."

"Fair enough."

There was a sudden sizzling sound and Marianne turned to find the water boiling over. She turned the heat down and quickly added the seasoning and ramen block.

"Hey, one more thing – " Marianne turned to see he was gone. She grumbled, "You could have at least turned the lights back on!"

They snapped back on after a moment, having waited just long enough after her request to startle her. The bastard.

"Oh, real mature!" She shouted as she dumped the ramen into a bowl.

Looked like she really had her work cut out for her with this place. The thought should have made her tired just thinking about it, but instead she felt excited about her future for the first time in months.

 _A/N: I have uploaded this to other sites but figured I would put it here as well to see if I could reach any other Strange Magic fans :) Thanks to abutterflyobsession for the prompt that started it all!_


	2. Chapter 2

For the first time in a long while Marianne was having a productive day. It wasn't even lunchtime yet and she had skimmed the job listings, applied to two potential jobs, cleaned the kitchen, cleaned the living room and put away all the kitchen stuff. Mind you, the only reason she was even able to get up early was because she fell asleep on the couch last night, book and hand, but still! Two cups of coffee fixed her right up. She felt that her first official day as an adult in her own place was going pretty well.

Bog was nowhere to be seen, but it was possible he didn't come out during the day. That or he had sprung from the depths of her imagination to torture her. She'd had hallucinations before, right when she was in that weird place between dreams and the waking world but none of them appeared as solid and realistic as Bog. Plus Marianne was 99% sure she had been awake for the experience. No, Bog was real. It was just a matter of figuring out what his game was. If his weakness was that he couldn't come out during the day, all the better.

Marianne sighed and stretched out her sore muscles. It was time to explore the upper level of the house and see what kinds of messes awaited her there. She never did get to see the bedrooms on the tour, after all. If she had been sensible she would have seen at least one of them last night but she just had to finish that last chapter.

The first and second bedroom were what appeared to be guest bedrooms. In the first room a skinny single sized bed and a plain dresser were the only pieces of furniture. The second was more generous; sporting a double bed, end table, a larger dresser and adjoining closet. That one would be a good room for either her or Dawn. On closer inspection Marianne noticed that all the furniture in this room appeared to have some carving incorporated into it. Maybe they were hand-made? That made the landlord's disregard for the upkeep and the subsequent damage to the coffee table all the more frustrating.

The third bedroom was actually a study, with a small writing desk and a wall covered in books. Marianne immediately started sifting through the books and after a few minutes concluded that it was a varied collection of classics and modern stories. Fiction, non-fiction, autobiographies – there seemed to be a little bit of every category. Some were paperback, but most were hard cover. They were probably worth nothing, as all of them were worn and clearly well read, but to Marianne it was like discovering a room full of treasure. From the looks of it, she may not have to visit the library for a while. Everything but the autobiographies and some of the non-fiction looked like it could be interesting.

She sat down cross-legged on the floor and noticed towards the bottom there were a few comic book anthologies. The Avengers, Batman, and…Aquaman? Marianne sniggered to herself.

"Nerd!" She called out, in case he was listening. She had never read any comics herself, but even she knew that Aquaman was the dorkiest and most useless hero of the comic verse.

Marianne took the other two comic books out of the shelf. She had finished her book last night and some comics would be a nice change of pace. She enjoyed the Avengers movies and she loved Gotham as well as Batman: The Animated Series, so it might be fun to read some origin stories.

Marianne set aside the comics for later and continued to the master suite. The minute she entered she decided she was calling dibs. She would move all her belongings in here and Dawn would have no choice but to take the other room. Marianne would fight her for it if necessary.

A four poster bed, huge and imposing sat in one corner. It was simple but elegant, the wood beams carved to look like trees with wrapping ivy and thorns around it. It was probably the most ornate thing she'd seen in the house. Downright decorative in comparison, really. In another corner facing the balcony there was a plush chair that looked perfect for reading on stormy nights. And oh, the balcony. Marianne swung open the doors and soaked in the sharp chill of the air, scented with the ocean breeze. Yup. No way was she letting Dawn have this room.

Marianne closed the doors and noticed a telescope propped to the side for the first time. It was made of shiny brass and had the antique look of a family heirloom. She peered into the scope and was about to adjust it to look outward when the sound of a cleared their throat came from behind her. She jumped and whirled around to see Bog, looking slightly annoyed. Apparently he could come out during the day as easily as at night.

"Don't touch that. You'll ruin it." He made to shoo her away but Marianne put her hands on her hips, standing her ground.

"You have got to stop pulling the Batman on me." Marianne glared at him accusingly.

"The Batman?"

"You know, disappearing and reappearing behind me without a single clue of your presence until it scares the hell out of me. You ought to know. You have Batman comics in your library." Marianne huffed.

"I'm a ghost. What do you expect, footsteps? I don't even touch the ground, really." Bog motioned to his feet, which were indeed hovering about a quarter inch off the floor.

"Oh, don't pretend! I know you can make all sorts of sounds but you just don't do it because you like startling people."

The corners of Bog's mouth twitched up and Marianne rolled her eyes. Yup, she was spot on there.

"That should be a part of our deal. No more sneaking up on me. Or Dawn!"

"Dawn?"

"My sister. We're both going to be living here."

"Whoah, whoah. You didn't say anything about another girl. No deal. I won't have two women living in my house." Bog said, crossing his arms.

"Uh-uh! You are not backing out of this now, mister. I'm a package deal: me and my sister or you don't get your wishes for the house fulfilled."

Bog grumbled and stalked over to the window, looking out at the ocean.

"I haven't even met your sister. For all I know she's even worse than you." He said petulantly.

"Worse than me? I haven't done a thing to you and you've been trying to terrorize me from the beginning."

"Terrorize is hardly the right word" Bog rolled his eyes, "Aren't you the one who called my tactics 'cliché'? Pick a story and stick with it."

"I said trying didn't I? In any case, there's absolutely no reason why we can't get along like two civilized…beings."

"I'm not sure I'm done 'terrorizing' you yet. It's fairly good amusement, after all. And I've got nothing but time on my hands." Bog smirked, spreading his hands out.

Marianne wanted to slap that smug grin off his face, but instead she kept calm and said as disparagingly as possible, "Oh you poor dear. You really ought to stick to something you're good at."

Bogs grin froze then slowly fell into a scowl, "You were scared, don't deny it. But perhaps I will take a different tack." He tapped his chin thoughtfully as looked back out the window, "Ah, yes. I think I've got an idea right now. Looks like you've got visitors." He pointed and Marianne followed his gaze to the car winding its way up the road. Her aunt's car. Wonderful. So much for Dawn's plan of getting Sunny to drive her up.

"Dammit, of all the poor timing." Marianne turned to Bog, who was looking upward in a poor attempt to look innocent, "Don't you dare try anything."

"Who me? Why would I do anything?"

Marianne snorted, "I know better than that, now shoo. Disapperate or whatever it is you do."

"This isn't Harry Potter. I don't dissaperate."

"I'll bet you didn't even read Harry Potter and just watched the movies." Marianne jabbed.

"Oooh, weak blow. You saw my library so you know better. You must be nervous tough girl. Perhaps you should just leave, and save yourself the discomfort?"  
He was grinning again. Dammit.

"Oh shut it! If you so much as try anything…haunt-y…I swear I will find a way to hurt you."

"Making up words now, are we?" Bog laughed, "Worry not. I will do nothing of the sort."

"Then what are you planning?" Marianne threw up her hands in frustration, "I know that look. You're up to something."

"You've known me all of one day and you think you know what all my looks mean? You know what they say about assumptions."

Before Marianne could reply a knock sounded at the front door. With one last glare at Bog she rushed down the stairs.

She peeked out the window and suppressed a groan when she saw the look on her aunt's face. Aunt Clarissa was probably intent on convincing them what a bad idea this was.

"What a dour looking old woman." Bog noted from behind her and Marianne jumped for the second time that day.

"Batman, remember?"

"We haven't officially agreed on anything yet, remember?" Bog smiled innocently. He was enjoying this far too much.

"I told you to poof! They'll see you!" Marianne whispered anxiously.

"They won't. People only see me if I let them. Only you can see me right now."

"Well maybe I don't want to see you."

"Ouch. Better open the door, looks like the old hag is getting impatient."

Marianne forced herself to smile as she opened the door, "Aunt Clarissa! So good to see you." she said, hoping Aunt Clarissa couldn't see through herblatant lie as easily as Dawn could by the look she was giving Marianne from behind their aunt's shoulder.

"Of course I had to make sure you were doing alright." Aunt Clarissa said with an indulgent smile.

"You could do a little better than that." Dawn whispered to Marianne as they both filed in.

"What, this is one of my best smiles!" Marianne said through clenched teeth as Aunt Clarissa walked ahead of them and inspected the living room.

"Ha! If by 'best smile' you mean 'the look one gets when they encounter roadkill' then you're spot on." Bog said derisively.

"You stay out of this!" Marianne burst out, and clapped her hands over her mouth as Bog laughed uproariously.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Aunt Clarissa turned towards Marianne, looking offended. Great. She couldn't see Bog so of course she assumed the question was directed at her.

"I – uh – I mean…."

"She said stay off the couch. It's dusty." Dawn improvised before giving Marianne a look saying 'just chill she'll be gone quicker if you do'.

"This place IS rather dusty, isn't it? Shouldn't you girls be living in some nice, newer apartments?"

"Well I only arrived yesterday; I haven't had time to clean it all just yet." Marianne said defensively.

"'Nice apartments?' There's an oxymoron if I've ever heard one. Apartments are full of noisy partiers and children stomping around day and night." Bog mimicked a child having a tantrum, stomping on the floor back and forth like a monkey. Marianne snorted as she tried to contain her laughter.

Her aunt stared at her for a moment, bemused, before continuing, "And it's awfully large for two people, isn't it?"

Marianne glared at Bog, mouthing, 'stop' before turning back to her aunt, "Well, why don't I give you the tour?"

"I suppose." Aunt Clarissa sighed, the picture of martyrdom. Marianne rolled her eyes before heading over to the kitchen.

Dawn rushed in gleefully, "Look at how BIG IT IS! And look, marble counter tops! Do you know what that means?"

"…What?" Marianne hadn't noticed the counters before, but now that she did she found it a bit odd for the age of the house. Why update the counters but not the fixtures? Though it did look very nice.

"I can make fudge! The good kind!" Dawn said dramatically, throwing her hands in the air in a gigantic sweeping motion, "This place is perfect. I love it."

"But you've only seen the kitchen, dear." Aunt Clarissa pointed out.

"That's all that really matters." Dawn breathed as she ran a finger lovingly over the stove top, "This is so vintage! Oh, and cooking with fire is so much better. More even temperatures, you know."

"I can't wait for some of your famous soup." Marianne mentioned with a small smile at her sisters exuberance.

"Perfect day for soup, I think!" Dawn agreed cheerfully as she continued to dance around the kitchen, taking in every detail.

"Oh dear lord this woman is practically barfing rainbows. No. No way. No deal." Bog waved his hands to ward Dawn off. Marianne giggled, but thankfully this time it just looked like it was in response to Dawn's eagerness.

"It is nice." Aunt Clarissa agreed reluctantly as they left the kitchens for the upper level.

As they topped the stairs, her aunt crinkled her nose at the painting, "What is that?"

"What do you mean, _what_? I think you mean _whom_!" Bog bristled.

"Uh, the former owner of the house. Greg Boggart."

"What an ugly man, and a poor painting to boot. Surely you'll be taking it down."

"You're one to talk, hag." Bog said, advancing on her.

"Don't you dare!" Marianne said sharply. Bog stopped, grinning at her. Dammit, he got her again. Was that his plan? To make her look crazy in front of her aunt?

At Aunt Clarissa's confused look Marianne continued, "Don't you dare…try to tell me what constitutes bad art. I kind of like it."

"HA! Liar." Bog said.

"He's kind of roguishly handsome." Offered Dawn with a shrug.

They looked at each bedroom in turn, Bog trailing behind them and listening in but being blessedly quiet for the moment.

"How can you possibly afford this place, anyway?" Aunt Clarissa asked as they started back down the stairs, "It has three bedrooms and an office, _and_ it faces the ocean."

"It's actually very cheap. I got a good deal on it." Marianne hedged.

"How? What kind of deal?"

Great, now her aunt was looking suspicious. Probably she was imagining Marianne trading sexual favors in exchange for free rent, knowing her aunt's propensity for jumping to the worst case scenario.

Of course, it was a legitimate question and 'Because it's haunted' wouldn't be an acceptable answer, despite it being the truth. Marianne searched for an appropriate response.

"It's – uh – it needs a lot of updating. But…but the landlord can't afford to do it just yet so he's renting it out until he can."

"Well then it's not a permanent situation." Her aunt seemed relieved, "and when the lease is up you can come back to us, of course. Although it would be better if you came now, the next  
semester of college is about to start and there aren't ANY colleges near here - "

"I'm not returning to college, and we're not moving back to California." Marianne said, more sharply than she meant to, throwing her Aunt into a moment of shocked silence.

"Marianne, I have to say you've been acting very odd today. I don't know if I feel you are…mentally able…to live on your own right now with your sister out here." Her aunt was getting that sanctimonious look that always enraged Marianne. She clenched her fists and counted down from ten, knowing if she responded right away she would regret it.

"Just say the word and I'll give her a scare." Bog rubbed his hands together eagerly, "That'll wipe that smug smile off her face."

Marianne smiled and shook her head slightly at him. Ironic that it was her ghostly tormenter to pull her out of her mood.

"We'll be fine Aunt Clarissa. I promise to force Marianne to go to a counselor if she needs it." Piped in Dawn in a confident and jolly tone. Marianne glared at Dawn but she just smiled at her beneficently.

"Well – I suppose." Aunt Clarissa fretted, clearly searching for another angle as they made their way towards the front door, "But you really ought to come back with me. Be reasonable, girls. You aren't ready for this. Marianne, you're barely 22 and Dawn just turned 18...you're practically children..."

"You can stay here." Bog said suddenly, "Forget the hag."

"Really? You want us to stay? Both of us?" Marianne said, missing the enraged expression growing on Aunt Clarissa's face at her words.

Bog sighed, "I know I'm going to regret this but - Yes, BOTH of you. We can figure out the terms of our agreement tonight. No more trickery, I promise." He held up his hands in defeat and gave her a lopsided smile.

"No, I don't want you to stay!" Aunt Clarissa said, her frustration building, "Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

"Tell the old bag to shove off. Go on." Bog gave her the thumbs up sign in approval. This time Marianne couldn't stop the laughter at Bog's comment.

"What on Earth is so funny?" Exploded her aunt, while Dawn looked back and forth between the two, confused and worried, "You've been laughing about god knows what since I've gotten here! Do you find it funny that I'm concerned for you? You know I know what's best for you, if you would just listen – !"

"Nothing. Your concern is noted, Aunt Clarissa. Now if you could kindly shove off, that would be appreciated." Marianne said with a sweet smile and Dawn clapped her hands over her mouth to hide her grin with a 'o no you didn't' look plastered on her face.

"Well! I see how it is! Fine then. I will 'shove off' as you so kindly put it. You can give me a call when you've come to your senses and are ready to apologize for your behavior." Her aunt said as she stormed out the door.

Marianne and Dawn collapsed into each other as they were overcome with fits of giggles.

"Her face!" Dawn gasped, "She looked so…affronted. It was priceless! Oh, that was so worth the hours stuck in the car while she lectured me."

"Why didn't you go with Sunny like you planned?"

"You know how she feels about Sunny. She found out what I was planning and forced me to ride with her instead." Dawn frowned, "We had a great trip planned too. We were gonna sing our way through all our favorite musicals."

Marianne shuddered. That did not sound like a great trip to her, but to each their own.

A minute or so passed as they watched their aunt angrily empty the boxes from her back seat and trunk before slamming the car door shut and driving off,

"So really, what is going on? Aunt Clarissa was right on one thing, you've been acting a bit weird today." Dawn said.

Bog, who had been watching from the sidelines, approached.

"Can I?" he asked, and Marianne appreciated the small kindness of permission. It was almost…gentlemanly.

"Yes, you can show yourself to her now. Dawn, remember how I told you this place was haunted? Well, it really is. This is Bog."

Dawn eyes widened in shock and then realization as Bog appeared to her.

"It's the guy from the painting!" Dawn turned towards Marianne, "It really _is_ haunted?! We're living in a legitimately haunted house! OH MY GOSH" Dawn jumped up and down excitedly, "Marble counters AND a ghost! I'm so excited!"

Bog buried his head in his hands, "What have I gotten myself into." He muttered.

"Absolutely no more girls."

Bog paced the room as he thought, Marianne perched comfortably in the armchair as she wrote down the terms of the agreement.

Marianne shrugged, "That's fine. It's only the two of us. We don't have any more sisters to surprise you with."

"Marianne, you will occupy the master bedroom. Not Dawn." Bog gestured to Dawn, who was bouncing up and down in her seat excitedly.

"Aww! Why?" Dawn whined.

"I'm not having some hyperactive glittery child mucking up my bedroom." Bog crossed his arms.

"He's got a point, Dawn. You can tell where you've been in the house by following the glitter trail. What did you do, bathe in it this morning?"

"I just like to be bright and shiny, nothing wrong with that." Dawn pouted.

"I beg to differ." Bog muttered.

"I found a bit of it in the soup tonight." Marianne added, then stopped as something occurred to her, "Wait, your bedroom? Meaning…is that where you hang around usually?"

"Well it is _my_ room." Bog scoffed, "What of it?"

"So how do I know you won't be…peeping on me?" Marianne narrowed her eyes.

Bog gave her a withering look, "If that was what I wanted I could float into any house in town and get my kicks with a different girl each night."

"What, my sister's not good enough for you to peep on?" Dawn joked, "I think he just insulted you, Marianne."

"Of course she is! I – uh – I mean - she's perfectly attractive, but - " Bog started to turn red, "- but that's not the point! I don't – I would never - " He glared at Dawn before stalking over to the window, tapping his foot furiously while Dawn giggled shamelessly.

"Dawn!," Marianne cried, fighting the blush that was creeping across her own cheeks, "Ok, writing down 'Bog promises no peeping'. What's next on the agenda?"

"I can't think of anything else right now. We'll add more to it later." Bog said, still looking flustered.

"Yeah, that sounds good. I'm getting tired anyway. Come on Dawn, I'll help move your boxes to your room."

The moment Bog was out of earshot (or her best guess considering he was a ghost) Marianne whispered furiously at Dawn, "What was that? Seriously?!"

"What? I think he likes you." Dawn said with a smug grin.

"He doesn't. And that's beside the point. I know you've been trying to get me to go on dates since...Gerard…but come on Dawn. Bog is dead."

"Yeah. A ghost boyfriend. Wouldn't that be so romantic?" Sighed Dawn as they placed the boxes down next to the bed.

"No. It would be weird. Not to mention pointless. Please don't start, Dawn. Please?" Marianne begged.

"No promises. It's really fun to make Boggy blush."

Marianne sighed, "Oh I'll bet he's going to LOVE that gem of a nickname."

"Our Boggy Woggy ghosty wosty!" Grinned Dawn.

Marianne threw up her hands, "Ok, I'm gonna get to bed before he shows up in here and you start shaking things up again."

"I luuuuurve you sister mine." Dawn called after her.

"I love you too." Marianne said, adding under her breath, "Which is very lucky for you, considering."

"I heard that!"

"No you didn't!" Marianne ducked into the office with a sigh. She'd need a good amount of reading to get sleepy after that mess.

"Oh! Uh – hi." Bog said as she entered. Great.

"Hey. I was just gonna – gonna get a book." Marianne said awkwardly, "If that's ok, that is."

"Of course. But…only if you could do me a favor?"

"What?" She asked suspiciously. He was looking at her almost earnestly and she wasn't sure whether it made her uncomfortable or wary.

"Books are too heavy for me to…'pick up'. I can turn pages but I can't get the bloody things off the bookshelf." He gestured angrily towards the stacked books, "I've been wanting to read for ages and I haven't been able to. Except for that magazine on the floor there. You can only read about new carving techniques so many times before you get sick of it."

Marianne looked to where he was pointing, at some sort of woodworking hobbyist magazine splayed open on the floor. That reminded her.

"Hey…did you carve some of the furniture in the house?"

"Aye…" He said warily.

"It's really good. Very p – uh – intricate." Marianne was about to describe it as pretty but she was fairly sure Bog would not appreciate that descriptive term applied to something he made.

"Thank you." Bog rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the praise, "It's a good way to pass the time when you're in the midst of the ocean. Other than reading, that is."

"So…what book do you want me to get out for you?"

Bog reddened a bit, "The Aquaman collection."

"Haha. Nerd." Marianne said as she reached for it and placed it on the desk.

"Yes, as you said before."

"Oh, so you did hear that?" Marianne snickered.

"I did. And I'll have you know that Aquaman is not as wimpy as you assume. He's misunderstood."

"Really? Do tell." Marianne grinned at him.

Bog crossed his arms, "And why should I? You hardly have an open mind."

"Oh come on. Tell me. Tell me of the supreme manlieness of a man whose superpower is to talk to the fishies."

Bog rolled his eyes, "And that is probably the extent of your knowledge about the character. Am I right?"

"…Maybe."

"So I thought."

"Well fine, tell me. Open mind, I promise."

"For one thing, he can do a lot more than just talk to fish. He has superhuman strength and durability simply because he must endure the extreme pressures of the ocean. His swimming is so fast he may as well be the flash of the ocean."

"Ok, so more superpowers, fine. What else?"

"He's king of the seven seas. Earth is more than 70% water. You can do the math there, I assume. He commands armies, is a skilled tactician, and bears the weight of his rule well." Bog thought for a moment, "He also possesses a magic trident that allows him to control weather among other things."

"Okay, Okay, you've made your point. Not a wuss. But you can't deny that Batman would beat him."

Bog frowned, "Maybe."

"He would beat him. He's got a plan to beat every Justice League member." Marianne said confidently.

"Who says?"

"The internet."

"And we all know what a reliable information source the internet is."

"I'll have you know I got it from Wikipedia, the holy grail of completely true and accurate information." Marianne said and Bog gave a snort of laughter.

They were silent for a moment as Marianne gave him an appraising look.

Bog raised his eyebrow, "What?"

"You're just not what I expected of a salty sea captain."

"I'm sorry I don't live up to your stereotypical expectations, tough girl, but this is who I am. You can be plenty salty and still like comic books."

"It just seems so silly. A nerdy sea captain. Shouldn't you like, I don't know, manly things?" Marianne taunted , "Like…wrestling sharks?"

"Who says I don't?" Bog quirked an eyebrow and Mariane rolled her eyes with a laugh.

"Just open the front cover of the book, would you?"

Marianne stuck her tongue out at him, but did as he asked, "There, anything else your majesty?"

"No. I shall rule over the seven seas here in the comfort of my own office alone, if you please."

Marianne laughed and shook her head as she left the office. Who ever heard of a comic book nerd poltergeist? Still, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of their debate as she got ready for bed and settled in to read Batman.

A knock sounded at the front door, breaking Marianne out of her reverie as she job searched. She set the laptop down on the table and peeked outside to see Thangly there. Marianne sighed. What could he want? Reluctantly she got up and opened the door. Thangly looked rather fidgety. This couldn't be good.

"Can I do something for you?" Marianne asked.

"I just – uh – wanted to see how you were getting along." Thangly attempted a smile but just ended up looking slightly ill.

"Just fine. Nothing strange happening at all, I promise."

"Oh, yes. I've convinced myself now that I must have just been having a bit of bad luck," Thangly smiled lopsidedly at her, "I mean, it's the 21st century. Ghosts aren't real."

"You are a fool with a tragically short memory." Bog had come up behind him and was peering at him intently, "What nonsense are you up to now?"

Marianne ignored Bog as best she could, "Of course not. Is that all?" she asked, eager to get on with her day.

"Well - it's just - I've been thinking, uh, you and your sister here all alone - ghost or no this place is somewhat remote - "

Oh good lord. Was he trying to flirt with her? True, he wasn't that much older than her – perhaps about a five year difference despite his premature baldness – but he was about as far and away from her type as he could get. Marianne looked up to see what Bog was making of all this but he had disappeared, which was very unlike him. She was sure he couldn't resist the urge to pull a prank on her nervous landlord.

" - and if you ever needed some - wanted some - company…" Thangly continued, unperturbed.

Marianne was wondering how she could head him off in a way that wouldn't make him raise the rent on her when the sound of a car starting sounded from behind them. Thangly jumped and turned around just in time to see his car backing out of the drive which would aim it to plunge off the cliff and into the ocean below.

Marianne raised an eyebrow and sighed. Looked like Bog couldn't resist after all. Still, she couldn't help but giggle as Thangly chased after the car, screaming the entire way. Just at the last second the car swerved before going off the cliff and continued backing down the road with Thangly close behind, the car going just fast enough so that he couldn't quite reach it.

After Thangly was far in the distance Marianne could faintly see him pull open the door and drive off, the sound of wheels squealing audible even from so far off.

Bog reappeared laughing uproariously, and Marianne hid her smile behind her hand, determined not to encourage such behavior even if it was both helpful and hilarious.

"That wasn't very nice." Marianne said as sternly as possible.

"But it _was_ funny. Besides he was asking for it! Writing off my existence as fancy after only a few days. Pah!" Bog crossed his arms, "That and the frightful way he was trying to flirt with you." Bog shuddered, "Not a woman on Earth could want that man's attentions."

"Oh come on, he isn't _that_ bad." Despite her total disinterest in Thangly she was beginning to feel a bit bad for him.

"He is."

"He is not."

"You're just jeaaaalouuuuussssss!" Dawn said in a singsong voice as she skipped up behind them. Looks like she had awakened from her nap just in time to cause problems.

"Nonsense!" Bog said, but his face was turning a pale ghostly red as he backed away from Dawn, "Don't get near me you wee glitter fairy."

"It's not as glitter can stick to you." Dawn said.

"I'm pretty sure glitter doesn't follow the laws of physics." Marianne pointed out, glad to be on a different subject.

"Oh come on! I don't use THAT much glitter."

"You really do, though" Said Marianne dryly.

"Have to agree with her." Bog nodded sagely.

"You two stop ganging up on me!" Dawn pouted.

"Fine, fine. Now that you're awake we can get back to cleaning!" Marianne said in a mock cheerful tone and Dawn groaned.

"Nooooo! Unfair punishment!"

"Not punishment, fun! It's time to clean clean clean like - " Marianne started.

" – A big green mean machine!" Dawn finished cheerfully before they both paled, their cheerfulness evaporating instantly.

"I'll – uh – go get the broom and start upstairs!" Dawn said, forcing a smile on her face before scampering off.

Marianne started walking slowly back towards the house, but she didn't have the heart to go inside and face Dawn's fake cheeriness so she sat on the porch swing instead, her head in her hands.

After a few minutes Bog approached her, politely making footstep sounds as he came. Marianne looked up without thinking and Bog started when he saw Marianne's tear-stained face. He fiddled with his hands awkwardly and Marianne turned her head, embarrassed for him to see her like this.

"W-what - uh - what's wrong?"

Marianne swiped at her eyes, frustrated, "Every time I think I'm over it, I'm not." she said bitterly, more to herself than Bog, "How can I get over it when the littlest thing brings it all up again?"

"Brings what up?" He sat down next to her, still seeming unsure of what to do with his hands. They fluttered around for a moment before he patted the air above her shoulder, then tightly clasped them in his lap as if reigning in an errant dog.

Marianne looked up at Bog, and almost wanted to smile at his awkward sincerity. It was plainly obvious that for all his roughness it bothered him to see tears and he had no idea what to do with a crying woman. It almost made up for the infuriating fact that she was losing it in front of someone she barely knew.

"My dad died a few months back. Whenever he wanted to get us to clean he'd say that. It was kind of like our own personal cleaning mantra. It's stupid – but it made it fun." Marianne shrugged, "It's dumb. Things like that shouldn't make me cry, anyway."

Marianne could feel the sadness draining away from her, and she begun to panic for a moment until she realized it wasn't apathy this time but simply the emptiness that came after an unhelpful cry.

After a few minutes of silence Marianne figured Bog had gone but then he spoke up, almost too softly to hear, "It's not dumb. Parents are important. If my mother died - as annoying as she was – is - " He trailed off uneasily, but Marianne understood what he was going for and gave him a small smile.

"Thanks." She got up, "I'm – I'm gonna go take a nap I think. I'll see you later."

"Yeah, sure."

Marianne trudged back up to her room, her frustration with herself growing with each step. She had naively thought that moving to the house and away from California had fixed things. As if that was all it would take to stabilize her unpredictable emotional state.

"You're so stupid. Just changing your environment can't automatically make your problems disappear" She muttered to herself, "Idiot."

Marianne flopped down on her bed and threw her arm over her eyes to shield them from the bright light streaming through the window. Hopefully a nap would help her to feel normal again.

Marianne found napping to be harder than she first anticipated due to the fact that Dawn was furiously sweeping away at the halls outside her bedroom door. With a sigh Marianne got up and heaved open the door.

"Heyyy! You're up!" Chirped Dawn, and Marianne rubbed her temples with a groan.

"Yeah, no thanks to you. Could you possibly sweep any louder?"

"Yep!" Dawn started sweeping the broom in huge arcs and Marianne rolled her eyes. Dawn stopped when she saw Marianne's expression and cringed.

"Are you ok?"

"No Dawn. And neither are you. Are we really going to talk about this? Because it's kind of pointless, don't you think?"

"I'm fine!" She chirped, and Marianne bit back a caustic reply. Being mean to Dawn wasn't going to help matters.

"Whatever. Anyway, have you seen Bog?"

"No, why?"

"Because I've got something to do, and I don't think he's gonna like it. Thankfully he never said anything about it in the agreement so it's all good at the moment if I can do this fast enough." Maybe it was time for a little bit of...active therapy.

"…What? What are you going to do?" Dawn said, curious despite herself. She followed Marianne down the stairs, out the door, and into the tool shed. When Marianne hefted an axe up Dawn's eyes widened.

"Marianne…what are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna get rid of that damn ugly tree." Marianne turned towards Dawn, "Quit hovering around me, would you? Keep lookout for Bog if you want, whatever. Just leave me alone for now."

"Okayyyyy…guess I better listen to the crazy lady with the axe." Dawn said and skipped out.

Dawn was always going on and on about how she was worried about Marianne, how Marianne had problems when Dawn wouldn't even acknowledge her own feelings. How was that healthy? It was infuriating. All Marianne wanted was to have someone to talk to about it, someone who could understand, not some stupid therapist but someone who had gone through the loss right with her. Someone as close to the situation as she was. But Dawn refused.

She was mad at Dawn, but even angrier at herself. She felt weak even wanting Dawn's help. That she had all these intense emotions followed by periods of nothingness and she couldn't do anything to control it.

Marianne deftly lifted the axe, thankful for all those camping trips back when mom was still alive. Chopping wood had been a favorite, if unorthodox, childhood pastime for Marianne on those trips.

She wound back and threw all of her weight into the swing of the axe, reveling in the satisfying thunk and the reverberation of the blow traveling up her arms. She hit again and again, chips of wood flying, sweat streaming down her face. Distantly she heard screaming, feral yells, and after a moment she realized it was her.

She got so lost in her work that she almost forgot to switch sides, and very nearly got herself squashed when the tree finally crashed to the ground.

Marianne wiped her brow and looked at the tree, which had missed her by mere inches, and the only thing she could do was stand back and laugh.

"Is this how you act after a near death experience?" Dawn squealed, running out the front door, "What is wrong with you?"

At Dawn's bewildered look Marianne began to laugh harder, "Your face! You should have seen it when I lifted up the axe! For a second you looked convinced that I was possessed by the ghost of an axe murderer!" Marianne lifted the axe and imitated scary violin music.

Dawn looked like she was trying to keep a serious expression, but a smile broke through and she giggled, "Yeah, you looked pretty scary there for a minute. I sure would not have wanted to be that tree!"

"Just think of how much nicer the view will be out the bay window now." Marianne was feeling a lot better now. She reminded herself that she really needed to get back into kickboxing because exercise seemed to be her thing. Way better than having a sob-fest. Thinking back on it, she wasn't even sure why she stopped.

"Yeah." Dawn said, "Now come on, you look like you need a good drink of water"

"And a shower." Marianne said as they both went back inside. Best she enjoy the quiet for now, because she was positive that Bog was not going to be happy when he saw what she had done.


End file.
